


Isles of Yours, That Wait For Me

by gossy16



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gossy16/pseuds/gossy16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace still visits Hawaii. Of course, she still visits. She takes these trips alone because she never knows how she'll find Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isles of Yours, That Wait For Me

Grace still visits the islands; of course, she still visits. 

On this descent into Honolulu International, she thinks back to Charlie's toast at her wedding. "Proud of you, sis. On this night, I salute my mom and dad, Rachel and Stan Edwards, and I salute Danny Williams, who would be the proudest of us all. Josh, welcome to the family." Charlie was barely 16 then, and Grace smiles as she wonders how he became so wise, so young.

Steve hadn't made it, citing urgent matters at the office of the Governor. Danno never would've let him live it down, and Steve very well knows it, and it's probably made it all the worse.

It's been a little while now since her last trip home, but well, she has been busy.

She takes these trips alone now, because she never knows how she'll find him. They don't talk on the phone much, either, but all the same, she thinks she understands.

She tries to remember how blessed she is, for having two "spares," but it doesn't mean all that much when Steve, on a good day - the days that she is there to see, only ever looks half the man he once was. 

And there he is, gray as ever, towering over the little crowd gathered at arrivals. Endearingly, he used to dye his hair for her, but there's nothing to be done about those eyes, and then, why bother? Grace would tell him he was a goof, and he would smile faintly at that, no doubt hearing her father in her inflections, and with what little buoyancy they derived from it, they would float more or less effortlessly over their mildly awkward reunion and into Steve's rusty old truck. She's never sure what to say anymore, and the distance has nearly killed their own private shorthand for things like comfort or empathy, and it's hard to find things to smile about anymore.

His mouth says "welcome home, Gracie," and everything else about the way he strokes her hair says, _god, you still look way too much like him_ , and he blinks away something before she can say it's good to see him, too.

There is no avoiding the deafening, searing pain of that silent ride to the house, ever. Truth is, no two people in the world miss him as much as they do; no need to quantify. So they let it take over for those twenty minutes, and she takes in all the views and how familiar they remain, and they each reminisce how much Danny used to loathe Hawai'i. When they arrive at the house, Steve typically gives her a hand with her suitcase and about an hour to get settled. There's an ocean waiting to be swum, he says, and she gives him a proper hug and the best smile she can muster as it begins to register, how much they'll need one another to keep it together over the next few days.

They have the routine down to a T, and it makes Grace's heart ache when she recalls, she never knew Steve really was a military man until she was around 14. She'd always assumed Danno was speculating or pseudo-analyzing when telling her of his crazy partner's antics. Now she thinks the rigorous training hardwired in his brain and in his bones might be the only thing that keeps him functioning on a daily basis. And so she comes down the stairs at precisely 1400 hours, in full beach gear, including the slippers Steve set out for her in her bathroom. He'll ask if she's hungry and she'll tell him she ate on the plane, and alright then, to the sea.

It's difficult, sometimes, knowing how much she can hurt him just by looking, talking, moving the way that she innately does. And keeping herself away so much, Grace misses Steve more than thousands of miles can account for. But Steve was the one who swam with her the longest and the most frequently, every day that one summer, and so she likes to imagine that he, too, views these hours in the ocean as just theirs and theirs alone. 

Hours later, she'll finally feel at home, and they'll order pizza with pineapple on it - it's honestly not her favorite, but she can deal with the taste more than Steve can the sharper reminiscences. They'll sit on the lanai and he'll give her the updates on Chin, on Kono, Kamekona, Max, any and all of the people Danno himself once credited for rendering island life just a little more bearable. She tells him she and Josh bought a house, shows him almost all of the pictures, extends the same invitation Steve keeps telling her he will honor, one of those days.

In the morning, they drive out - Grace drives them - to the cemetery. No flowers, no nonsense, he would hate all of that. You could place a million ornaments on top of it, 2019 still remains the unfairly low number engraved in stone. "Look who's here with me," Steve mumbles vaguely downward, as if he ever came here on his own, and Grace mentally kicks herself for not thinking of the big anniversary, for her unintended surprise that Steve's made it ten years. He stands silent at her side now, of course, and after a little while she tells him she'll get the car, and to take as long as he needs. Invariably, he'll be just a few minutes behind her, but Grace prefers to allow them both some privacy - if only for a few minutes.

*

Grace almost drowned once, when she was 13. She swam way out to where her feet couldn't reach the bottom, and she panicked. She called out Steve's name first because she knew Danno would freak, and he was in the water before she even swallowed her second (out of three) mouthful of saltwater. Danno came out to the lanai to the sounds of her coughing dry air back into her lungs, and she was under strict lifelong orders never to set foot into the ocean again. It's a happy memory because of how unreasonable the request, because of how disproportional the punishment, because of how much love she understands now more than ever. Steve never heard the end of it, to be sure.

The judge was all over that incident, too, when she got the emancipation from her mother. The afternoon of the hearing, Grace remembers Steve saying exactly eight words to her on the drive home: "Never go beyond waist-deep. This is non-negotiable." Even at the time, Grace remembers thinking, but what if _Steve_ needs rescue from drowning? And she said, "Are you kidding me? What is this, kiddie-pool ocean rules? Because I, my friend, didn't know the ocean had a kiddie pool." And Steve just shook his head, something like exasperated, and kept his eyes on the road the whole rest of the way. Probable that Gracie was being a typical teenager. Probable also that Steve did in fact need her around to keep from going under.

*

On the third day, Grace sits on a deck chair and watches Steve on his morning swim. He is a silver dot bopping up and down in a regular rhythm, almost undistinguished from the water if it weren't for the movement, reflecting the sunrise beams in every direction. She tries to imagine what sort of breakfast her dad would cook up right now if he were here with them. She wonders if it's possible to ever get tired of the view. She thinks of her men in Michigan and how it's time she flies them here to finally meet Steve. Maybe next Christmas? 

The coffeemaker beeps her out of her thoughts and when she comes back out with two steaming mugs, she searches the horizon for Steve. She calls his name, and he can't hear her, because he would be back already if he could. Grace sets their coffees on a table and walks to the waterline, and yes, she sees him now but the movement looks uneven and she calls again, just to make sure he knows what he's doing. When he doesn't respond, Grace gets in and starts wading to him, then swimming, and when she reaches him at last she is startled to find herself neck-deep in the ocean. 

"Steve," she says, and he stands, all of a sudden like he just woke up, and he must have been in the water a while because he's only very rarely looked this tired to her, and she's seen him at his lowest a lot.

He sighs then, contrite, maybe shameful if she didn't know better, and turns his head to the horizon so she won't see whatever state he's gotten himself in. "I'm sorry," he starts, of all things to say, "I think I lost track of time."

"Steve," she says again, like he can tell her what it is, because Grace knows, she _knows_.

"I just miss him," he starts again, glancing tentatively at her. "I keep swimming like any minute now, the world is gonna start making sense again. But I just miss him, I miss him, and now look at you, in too deep with your PJ's on, all because I kept swimming too long."

Grace chuckles at the last bit because she's not sure how else to respond, and her airways are getting tight anyway. "You wanna swim back a little closer to shore?"

Steve just nods and so they swim in silence. Once on shore, Grace makes sure to drag Steve inside the house. "I'll just be a minute, there's coffee on the deck."

By the time they're in dry clothes, the coffee's gone cold, but they drink it anyway. The view remains stupidly gorgeous, and it seems wrong that only two of them are here to see it.

When she's almost done with her cold coffee, Grace asks, "Is it easier when I'm away?"

And Steve is carefully choosing his next words, she can see. "Some days it seems that way. I can pretend he moved away to be with you. I can pretend he's happier somewhere. Might come back some day. Until you come off the plane, and it's just you, and as much as I can love you, he always loved you more."

Grace swallows the last of her beverage-formerly-known-as-coffee and stares into her empty mug, "Steve," she says, and "Steve," she repeats, "Steve," until he finally looks at her, and if his eyes are water-rimmed, it might still be the ocean. 

"Danno loves you," she says, and when Steve closes his eyes over the saltwater, she knows he heard her and heard them _both_. "And I'll be back before long, with family in tow. You should meet your grandson, Steve."

"Okay," he says. Okay.


End file.
